


Sadie Hawkins dance

by pure1magination



Category: Captain America (Movies), Fantastic Four, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Crushes, Drag Queens, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining, School Dances, transgender Johnny Storm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 12:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3610491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pure1magination/pseuds/pure1magination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sadie Hawkins dance is where all the girls ask the guys. But what if you're a guy, and you want to ask another guy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sadie Hawkins dance

**Author's Note:**

> (Not gonna lie, this is primarily Johnny/Remy.)

Johnny Storm hated school dances.

Every time one was coming up, his aunt would ask him why he hadn't found a nice  _boy_ to go with. She left out not-so-subtle brochures and magazines advertising the latest style of dresses, the latest haircuts and makeup tips. She had subscribed to  _Seventeen_  without his permission and frequently left copies, with his name on them, sitting around the house. _  
_

She didn't seem to grasp the fact that he was a  _boy_. 

"Jennifer," she lilted, stirring a pot in the kitchen, "Isn't it about time for the Sadie Hawkins dance? Does your school do that? I swear you said something about them doing it last year. You should really attend some year. I  _know_ you're not too shy. Why don't you ask a nice boy and go?"

Johnny rolled his eyes and sank further down into the couch, turning up  _The Princess and the Frog_. The problem wasn't that he hated dancing. It wasn't even that he wasn't attracted to boys, because... Well, there was  _one_... -But they were friends, and there was no way he was asking him to the dance. Girls asked the boys, that was the rules. The GSA loudly protested about this dance, especially their president and vice-president, Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter. They had pointed out, rightfully, that some boys wanted to ask boys, and some girls wanted to ask girls, and there were more than two genders anyway, and this whole dance was just reinforcing the heteronormative misogynistic culture, blah blah blah. Johnny had only been half-listening because they tended to use big words and he couldn't join the GSA even if he  _wanted_ to. There was  _no_ way his aunt wouldn't find out about that, and there was  _no_ way she wouldn't freak out about it once she did.

"Jenny?" his aunt called. "Are you listening to me? Turn that damn movie down!"

Johnny sighed and rolled his eyes, turning the volume down two notches. It was still pretty loud.

"Are you going to this dance, Jenny? I really think you ought to. You're a Junior now, before you know it, high school will be over, and you won't have done a single thing!" His aunt kept talking as she set the table. "I mean, you aren't in any clubs, you don't do any extracurricular activities-- you are going to waste your entire high school experience on texting, and video games, and- and- crappy cartoons! Jenny! Turn that down!"

Johnny turned the movie down one more notch, even though he wished he could drown himself in the New Orleans accents, rather than have to listen to his aunt berate him yet again.

His aunt stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. A pastel crucifix hung just above her head- there was at least one in every room of the house. "Jenny, I'm really starting to worry about you. It was bad enough that you dated a  _girl_ during middle school-" (Johnny had dated several girls since middle school, but none of the relationships had gotten very far, because he'd accidentally discovered that doing anything more than kissing triggered his dysphoria) "-but now you've got your hair cut short, and you wear those  _awful_ jeans all the time- When is the last time you washed them?" She didn't give him time to answer. "You know, if you don't go to this dance, you're only hurting yourself. I raised you better than this. No daughter under  _my_ roof is going to turn out to be a lesbian!"

Johnny  _really_ wished she wouldn't talk over his second-favorite movie.

His aunt crossed her arms over her chest. "And ignoring me! Really, I've raised you better than this. Where are your manners? Sit up straight! Goodness, girl, everything about you needs to be straight!"

Johnny begrudgingly sat up straighter on the couch. If it would shut her up...

But of course he had no such luck. "Dinner's ready. If you aren't too busy ogling Tiana." She glared at Johnny. Then she turned, sat at the table, and said grace  _very_ loudly, adding in something about her delinquent niece and how disapproving Jesus would be, and how God didn't die on the cross for lesbians.

The usual bullshit.

Johnny bid a sad goodbye to his movie and joined his aunt at the table. He'd always hated spaghetti.

*

Remy LeBeau was one of the most attractive boys in the entire school. Despite that fact, or perhaps in part because of it, he only had one real friend. Everyone else kept their distance because of his accent. Johnny had voiced on several occasions that this was ridiculous, and that he wasn't even that hard to understand! When he was defending Remy, Johnny's cheeks would get all pink and his eyes would get all bright, and Remy privately thought it was the cutest thing in the world. But according to the rumor mill, Johnny was the love 'em and leave 'em type, and he only went for girls.

Which is why, at lunch, while Remy was surreptitiously pretending to find the posters for the Sadie Hawkins dance much more interesting than the lanky blond sitting next to him, he asked, "Is dere anyone you're hopin' will ask ya tu th' Sadie Hawkins dance?"

Johnny turned red and choked on a french fry. His eyes quickly darted away and he chugged down a sip of chocolate milk to chase down the fry. He cleared his throat and stared elsewhere. "..No," he answered once he could talk.

Remy eyed him carefully. Keeping his tone casual, he asked, "So dere's no one tha's caugh' your eye?"

"No," Johnny mumbled, face red. A tell if Remy ever saw one.

There  _is_ someone. Remy's heart sank. "Too bad ya can' ask her ya'self, eh, mon ami?"

Johnny's mouth narrowed to a thin line. He avoided Remy's eyes.

Remy attempted to lighten the mood. "Well, Ah suppose ya  _could_ ask 'er. Fo' a dance tha's supposed tu go  _against_  de patriarchy, it sho' is.. How did Peggy say it?"

Johnny rolled his eyes and mumbled, "Heteronormative?"

"Righ'," Remy agreed. "Tha'."

Johnny was quiet as he finished eating. He kept avoiding Remy's eyes. Remy wanted to say something to him, but he had no idea what.

"..We still on fo' aftah school?" Remy attempted.

Johnny blushed again. If Remy lacked a bit more self-restraint, he'd lean over and kiss one of those pink cheeks. "Yeah," Johnny agreed.

The bell rang, signalling the end of lunch period.

Johnny slung his backpack over his shoulders and shuffled off to class without a backwards glance, expression stormy.

*

It had become an accidental tradition to meet up at the cafe just down the street from the high school every Thursday afternoon. Remy always bought them both hot cocoa, they always sat at the table near the back, and they always lingered long after the hot cocoa was gone. Johnny had told Remy that he hated going home, but he'd never told Remy  _why_. Today... Today was the day he was gonna do that.

He felt sick just thinking about it.

Johnny was pretty sure their friendship was solid, but this was going to be the ultimate test. If Remy could accept this part of him... Fuck, he was so nervous.

Remy walked in, shot him a smile, and wandered over to the counter. He ordered their usual- two hot cocoas with cinnamon- and brought the twin mugs over to the table. He slid one in front of Johnny. Noting Johnny's expression, he asked, "Penny fo' your thoughts?"

Johnny gulped. "...There's... something I gotta tell you." He held up a hand to silence Remy, panicking. "But not here!" he said a hair too loudly. "Somewhere... private."

Remy examined Johnny's face. "You a spy?" he joked.

Johnny rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and the government's lookin' for me."

Remy pretended to be relieved. "Well if tha's all, ya coulda tol' meh tha'." He was quiet for a moment, leaning back in his seat and sipping his cocoa, before he said quietly, "Mah paren's won' be home for anothah hour..."

Johnny met Remy's eyes with mixed terror and hope. He nodded.

They left the cafe and walked the short distance to Remy's house, silent the whole time. Johnny didn't have the time or free brain space to worry what Remy was thinking about; he was too busy fretting over what he was going to say, how he was going to tell him. He'd thought about it a million times, but now that it was finally in front of him, Johnny was terrified.

They'd arrived at Remy's house before Johnny even realized they were there. Remy opened the door and ushered Johnny inside. Johnny followed, heart pounding. For an awkward, heart-pounding moment, Remy leaned over him to close the door behind them. Johnny blushed.

Remy led them down a hall to his bedroom, sent Johnny a questioning glance, and at Johnny's terse nod, closed that door too. 

Johnny fought hard not to panic. What little cocoa he'd been able to drink curdled in his stomach. He scraped a hand over and over again through his short-yet-still-too-long hair. He took a deep breath and let it out.

Remy waited patiently.

Johnny closed his eyes and steeled himself. "Okay... I don't know how to tell you this," he confessed, "So I'm just gonna show you. -Could you? Just... Turn around for a second?"

Remy scanned his face, eyebrows drawn a bit, but nodded once and turned around.

Johnny gulped. Shakily, he brought his hands to the hem of his hoodie. "Don't look until I say so," he warned. 

"Ah won'," Remy promised.

Johnny bit his lip. He closed his eyes again. Then, before he could freak out and back out, he pulled the hoodie off, over his head, and discarded it. Without pausing, he pulled off his t-shirt too. Under that were his two sports bras. For a heart-pounding moment, he wondered whether to leave them on or take them off. He really didn't want to think about his breasts right now, or the scars underneath them from the time he'd---

"All right," Johnny said, deciding. "Turn around."

Remy turned around slowly. Those beautiful brown eyes swept down from his face, over his torso. Remy's expression didn't change. The only thing Johnny could glean from his face was complete neutrality. Which was better than loathing or disgust, or fear, but Johnny didn't know what to make of it. _  
_

"Well?" Johnny asked, anxious.

Remy met his eyes. Calmly, he said, "Dere's somethin' Ah've been meanin' tu show ya too." His mouth tugged up a little on one side, and then he was picking something up from his dresser, and opening this weird little plastic thing. He stretched open his eyelid and--  _oh._ Remy took out a contact lens. And then the other one. He blinked several times, took a deep breath, then turned to face Johnny. _  
_

Remy's eyes were red.

Johnny's heart flipped in his chest. He'd always thought Remy's eyes were brown, and they'd been such a beautiful brown, but sometimes the light would catch them a certain way, and they'd look red. Johnny had always loved that about Remy's eyes. But now Remy was facing him and his eyes were really  _red_. "Remy," he whispered.

Remy stood in front of him self-consciously, as though afraid of Johnny's judgment. "Well... Now we know," Remy said, looking elsewhere.

"So you don't think I'm a freak??"

Remy frowned at him. "Whah would Ah evah think ya were a freak?"

Johnny gestured to his torso, especially the bras. "Uh. Hello? I have boobs?"

"An' Ah have red eyes. Wha's your point?"

Johnny glowered at the wall. "Uh, maybe that everyone  _else_ seems to think I'm a freak? Or going against God, or something?" he added with distaste.

Remy stepped closer. "Well Ah don'," he said firmly. "-Johnny, look a' me." He reached out to gently cup Johnny's chin and turned his face towards his own. "Ah've been hidin' these eyes fo' years 'cause anyone who's seen 'em thought Ah was possessed by th' devil. Ah am de  _las'_ person tha' would evah think ya were a freak. An' even if Ah weren', those tha' do ahn't worth your tahme. Dey are closed-minded an' bigoted an' whatevah they've said tu you, it wasn' true."

Johnny's vision started to cloud with unshed tears. "Remy," he breathed, voice cracking. He'd never loved anyone so much in his entire life. He pulled Remy into a hug, burying his face against the crook of Remy's neck. If a few tears dampened the skin there, well, sue him.

Much to his surprise, Remy hugged him right back. "...Is tha' why ya don' wan' tu go home?"

Johnny nodded his head. More tears fell.

Remy held him protectively. He let Johnny cry into the crook of his neck for a long moment, not saying anything, just holding him.

Eventually, Johnny backed away, pretty sure he'd gone beyond 'friend' territory. He laugh-sobbed self-consciously, not wanting Remy to be uncomfortable, and wiped away at the annoying tears on his face. "My aunt wants me to wear a dress to the Sadie Hawkins dance," Johnny confessed. He wiped away another tear that had just begun to fall. "She wants me to style my hair, and do my makeup..." He sniffled. "She's been leaving magazines all over the house..."

Remy's face hardened. His jaw set. "We've gotta get ya outta there, mon ami."

Johnny shrugged. "She has legal custody, so..." He wiped away another tear.

Remy picked Johnny's shirt up off the floor and gently offered it to him. Johnny took it gratefully and covered up those hateful breasts.

"And for the record," Johnny said, slipping into his sweatshirt, "I like your eyes." His cheeks turned a little pink at the admission.

Remy gave Johnny a long, unreadable look. "Ah've got somethin' Ah've gotta do." He ushered Johnny out of his house, reassuring him all the way that it had nothing to do with what had just happened. "Ah jus' have homework."

Johnny couldn't help being worried anyway.

*

The next day at school everyone was in a tizzy. Girls were asking out guys left and right, kneeling in the middle of hallways, shouting over bannisters, slipping notes in the middle of class. Johnny rolled his eyes at each and every one.

He was looking forward to lunch.

When he sat down at his table though, he was oddly alone. He surveyed the cafeteria, wondering where Remy had gone. He hoped Remy wasn't sick. Remy hadn't texted him to let him know he was absent, so if he  _was_ sick, it must be pretty bad.. But what if Remy wasn't sick? What if Remy wasn't sitting with him anymore because of what had happened yesterday? What if Remy  _did_ think he was a freak?

There was a disturbance at the far end of the cafeteria. Johnny couldn't see what was going on; all he could see was people craning their necks, and a crowd forming. He rolled his eyes and figured it was either another girl asking a guy to the Sadie Hawkins dance, or another fight breaking out because of it.

As the crowd migrated closer though, and the necks craned to follow it, Johnny became suspicious, because it was clearly neither of these things. And a lot of people were now staring at him.

Johnny wondered for a panicked moment if someone had outed him, or if someone was coming to beat him up over a misunderstanding, or if- somehow- some girl had a crush on him and was planning on asking him to the dance. He hated having to turn them down. It was always so awkward.

The pink, red, and silver balloons floated closer. He saw his name on one of them.

Johnny groaned. It  _was_ someone coming to ask him to the Sadie Hawkins dance.

The crowd finally converged around his table. Johnny was hiding his face in his sleeves, pretending to be asleep on the table.

A finger gently tapped him on the shoulder. "Johnny?" said a familiar voice.

Johnny raised his head and his eyes flew open wide. He jumped back and grasped the table for support. There, standing in front of him in a hot pink ballgown, holding a huge bouquet of balloons, was Remy LeBeau, his eyes shaded with magenta eyeshadow, his lashes plumped with mascara, his lips filled in with dark pink lipstick. He was smiling down at Johnny, the balloons bobbing behind him. One said 'Johnny Storm,' another said 'Will You,' another, 'Be My Date', and another 'To The Sadie Hawkins Dance', and the last balloon just had a giant question mark. 

"Ya ahre de manliest man Ah've evah met," Remy said seriously. Putting on a falsetto and speaking like a southern lady, he said, "Will ya be mah date tu th' Sadie Hawkins dance?"

Johnny grinned and burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. Remy looked  _ridiculous,_ but at the same time,  _still_ unfairly attractive. There were at least twenty people watching them. Johnny's face slowly turned red. "...Of course."

Several people in the crowd cheered. 

Remy grinned and pulled Johnny into a hug. He left a big obvious lipstick print on Johnny's cheek, pulling away with a loud smack.

*

The only problem with agreeing to go to the Sadie Hawkins dance was that he had to hide it from his aunt. Johnny's friend Charles had agreed to lend him a suit, and give him a ride there. Remy had bought tickets in a roundabout way, aided by Peggy and Steve, heads of the GSA.

The whole week leading up to the dance, Johnny dodged his aunt and ignored her magazines and her broad hints. He told her once that it was too late to buy tickets anyway, but that fell on deaf ears. "I'm pretty sure you can still buy them," she'd insisted. "Back in my day, you could buy them at the door! I can't imagine they wouldn't let kids do that anymore."

The atmosphere seemed to have shifted between Johnny and Remy, but even though Remy  _had_ asked Johnny to be his date to the Sadie Hawkins dance, he'd taken it as a sweet gesture to reaffirm his gender, as opposed to being an actual  _date_. He wanted to believe it so hard, but there was no way it was an actual  _date_.

Charles seemed to think it was, and insisted the whole drive there that it was. "I'm sure Remy is going to think you're  _very_ handsome. You look positively dashing this evening."

Johnny rolled his eyes. "I look like a dork. This suit doesn't fit right."

"I'm sorry," Charles apologized sincerely. "I did offer to have it tailored for you."

Johnny waved him off. "Wouldn't have made a difference." He hadn't wanted it tailored because if it was too close-fitting, he was worried that it would accentuate things that he didn't want accentuated.

"Just wait until he sees you," Charles insisted. "He won't be able to keep his eyes off you all evening."

"Pretty sure he's straight, Charles." Which Johnny wasn't sure of at all, but it seemed the safest assumption. Straight until proven otherwise.

"He did wear a dress for you."

"Plenty of straight guys wear dresses for fun. Maybe he did it as a joke."

"It didn't  _sound_ like a joke." Charles had pulled up outside the school.

"Whatever." Johnny opened the door. "See you at ten."

Charles smirked. "See you at eleven."

Johnny rolled his eyes. Charles was  _so_ sure Johnny was going to stay for the entire thing, and that it wasn't going to be completely embarrassing and awkward and a total train wreck. He was really getting into a groove with his negative thoughts when Remy walked up to him, smiling. And wearing a fucking dress. The same fucking dress he'd worn when he asked Johnny to this dance. And his hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and he was wearing a full face of make-up again. And jewelry.

Johnny gaped.

Remy's eyes raked appreciatively up and down Johnny's body. He stepped next to Johnny and offered his elbow. "Ready, mon ami?"

"I... I..." Johnny was speechless. Remy had shown up in a  _dress._

"You're absolutely righ'," Remy said. " _Ah_ should be takin'  _your_  elbow." And he did.

Johnny blushed dark pink. "Do you have the tickets?" he mumbled.

"Already taken care of," Remy said with a wink, pulling two ticket stubs out of the bosom of his dress. He led them into the school gym, which was decorated with balloons and streamers. The lighting was predominantly pink and blue, and the music was decidedly '90s. "Care fo' a dance?"

"I--" Johnny was red and couldn't believe this was happening and really didn't know what to do or say. Some couples were already out on the dance floor. "I," Johnny stammered. Remy was in a  _dress._

"No hurry, mon ami," Remy soothed, leading them over to the punch bowl. Well- oversized-plastic-watered-down-punch-dispenser. Still. There was punch. Remy poured himself a cup from the tap. Then thought better of it and handed it to Johnny.

Johnny accepted the plastic cup without thinking. "Hey!" greeted a voice Johnny vaguely recognized. He turned. It was Steve Rogers, arm-in-arm with a girl Johnny didn't recognize. "Hey," Johnny echoed.

"Glad you could make it here!" Steve said brightly. "I've gotta say, that was one of the best Sadie Hawkins invitations I've ever seen. It inspired me to ask my own date!" he said, indicating the unfamiliar woman at his side.

"Hey," said the woman in a surprisingly deep voice. Turning to Steve, s/he said "What are you talkin' about?  _I_ asked  _you. I'm_ the girl, remember?"

"Right, sorry," Steve apologized, not sounding sorry at all.

"You better be, punk," replied his date, elbowing him. "I had to fight you to wear this dress!"

Steve grinned. "And you look  _fantastic_ in it."

"Damn right I do!" his date agreed.

Johnny looked back and forth between the two of them, not sure what to say.

Remy leaned closer to Johnny and wrapped an arm casually around his shoulders. "Wha' abou' me?" he said in his falsetto, batting his mascara'd eyelashes. "Do Ah pull it off all righ'?"

"You look  _fabulous,_ " Steve said emphatically.

"Just not as fabulous as me," his date interjected.

Steve grinned at his date.

His date grinned back.

"Care for a dance,  _Becky?"_ _  
_

Steve's date rolled his eyes. "Sure thing,  _Stevie._ " As they headed towards the dance floor, Johnny overheard Steve's date saying "Really? You were gonna call yourself 'Stevie'? God, you are so awful at doing drag." He heard Steve's chuckle, too, but his response was lost in the loud '90s music.

"Wha' abou' you?" Remy offered, setting down his empty cup. "Dance wit' meh?"

Johnny's heart was pounding, and his hands were sweating. But Steve and 'Becky' were out there laughing on the dance floor, having a good time. And he thought.. maybe he could too. What the hell. "Sure, why not," he said.

Remy grinned and faux-followed Johnny onto the dance floor, leading him all the while.

"Don't know how anyone thought you were a girl," Johnny said, looking up at his gorgeous 6'2" 'date.'

Remy scoffed in near-genuine offense, a hand flying up to his bosom. "Ahre ya sayin' Ah'm no' pretteh enough?" he said in his falsetto.

"No, no! It's not-! I'm not-!" Johnny blushed dark pink.

"Is it th' dress?" Remy pretended to fret. "Ah  _knew_ Ah shoulda got somethin' with a bigger skirt. Mah mothah said it was too floozy, an' all de boys would bet de wrong idea..!"

Johnny smacked him on the shoulder, laughing. 

Remy chuckled too. They danced to the uppity '90s music, and as song after nostalgic song came onto the loudspeakers, Johnny started to feel more at ease. He was just having fun with a friend. A really gorgeous friend who he'd secretly been in love with for months. He could live with this. This wasn't so bad...

They bumped elbows and fists, danced back to back, all goofy and silly, just having fun. Johnny stopped caring what everyone else thought of him, stopped feeling like all eyes were on him. Whenever someone  _did_ look their way, they were inevitably looking at Remy. And not a single frown was seen. They all thought he was funny.

Not that Remy noticed or cared. His full attention was focused on Johnny.

Johnny was over the moon about this. To be the center of Remy LeBeau's world was Johnny's own version of heaven.

Or so he thought, until a familiar guitar intro started playing. Johnny's cheeks turned pink. He knew this song.

Remy seemed unphased. Gracefully, he pulled Johnny closer. Suddenly, it didn't matter what Remy was wearing. All that mattered was the heat of Remy's shoulder against his cheek, their arms gently wrapped around each other, and the gentle scent of- wow, Remy had gone all out. He'd actually spritzed on perfume.

_Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight..._

Johnny wondered if Remy could feel his heart pounding through the five layers of fabric that separated them. Remy had gone quiet. He was gently swaying them back and forth, resting his cheek lightly against the side of Johnny's head. When Johnny raised his head to meet Remy's eyes, Remy wasn't smiling anymore. His gaze seemed far away, and yet when their eyes met, Remy's gaze sharpened, and suddenly Johnny felt like he was the center of Remy's world again.

_Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling  
_

Remy couldn't be thinking the same thing Johnny was thinking. There was no way Remy could be thinking the same thing Johnny was thinking. Johnny was staring at Remy's mouth, coated in faded lipstick. All the lipstick seemed to do was make Remy's lips even  _more_ tempting. His heart skipped a beat when he realized those lips were looming closer.

_So kiss me_

Johnny barely had time to register what was happening before those lips dodged to the side and kissed his cheek, just missing his mouth.

His eyes widened. Remy came away from Johnny's face looking fond, but apologetic. There was something in his eyes though, something self-conscious and almost afraid...

"You missed," Johnny said quietly.

Remy's eyes widened. "Ah though'... Did.. Did ya wan' meh tu?"

_Kiss me beneath the milky twilight..._

Johnny cupped Remy's cheek, heart pounding, and leaned closer, eyes darting between Remy's eyes and his mouth.

_So kiss me_

Slowly, Remy tilted his head down. Their lips met.

Johnny closed his eyes, forgetting to breathe for a moment while Remy kissed back. He felt as though he was floating. Softly, their lips pressed together until the end of the song.

They pulled away slowly, eyes drifting open as though waking from a dream. Johnny cracked up when he saw Remy's eyeshadow and mascara up close.

"Wha'?" Remy wondered, smiling.

Johnny beamed and shook his head. "You're wearing makeup."

Remy snorted. "An' Ah look damn good in it too."

"Hell yeah you do."

They grinned dreamily at each other for a moment before one of the fat, balding chaperones pointed angrily and said "THERE HE IS!"

*

Johnny and Remy were kicked out of the dance for not following the rules. Two  _guys_ weren't supposed to go the Sadie Hawkins dance together.

They were in good company though, Steve and Bucky got kicked out too. Bucky swore a colorful streak at the fat man who kicked them out, but Steve just shrugged it off and said, "Who needs 'em. Anyone up for Arby's?"

Which is how the four of them ended up sitting in the Arby's parking lot, in formal wear, chatting and joking until one in the morning.

Steve and Bucky sat just as close together as Remy and Johnny. Curly fries were thrown, mozzarella sticks shared.

"Sorry about that," Steve had apologized to Remy. "I really thought that would work..." He was the one who'd gotten all four of them tickets.

"Their loss," Bucky had said, sitting in a very unladylike way and guzzling down soda.

Remy had agreed and drawn Johnny closer to his side.

Johnny had snuggled into him warmly.

Steve had looked at his watch around one and exclaimed that it was late and he had a curfew. He'd apologized profusely and left with Bucky, but offered for the third or fourth time that Remy and Johnny should friend him on facebook.

"Ya don' have tu go home yet, mon ami," Remy said gently in response to Johnny's downturned face.

"Charles said he'd meet me at eleven," Johnny said sadly.

Remy pulled him closer again. "All righ'. Ya want meh tu call him?"

"I don't know if he's still awake..."

Remy kissed the top of his head. "Ya should at least let 'im know wha' happened."

Johnny sent him a text. He snuggled into Remy's side while waiting for a response. About ten minutes went by without one, though, and they came to the conclusion that he was probably still asleep.

"Come sleep at mah house," Remy offered quietly. "Creepin' in at one-thirty wearin' a suit would prob'ly raise an alahm wit' your aunt."

"You're telling me," Johnny returned.

Remy smiled gently. "Come on. Ah'll walk ya." He wrapped one arm around Johnny's waist and carried his high heels in his other hand.

They walked all the way back to his house in the moonlight. His parents had left the door unlocked, used to Remy staying out late. The house was quiet, and they made it back to Remy's room undisturbed. Remy offered clothes for Johnny to use as pajamas and went to the bathroom to change out of his dress and makeup.

When he returned, face clean, wearing an old t-shirt and a pair of flannel pants, Johnny was standing nervously in the middle of his room. "Um," Johnny said, playing with the hem of his shirt, "Where am I gonna sleep?"

"Mah bed's big enough for two." Remy indicated his bed, which was queen-sized and had two pillows, just like every other bed in the house.

Johnny blushed dark pink.

"Unless ya prefer de couch..?" Remy offered cautiously.

Johnny shook his head 'no.'

"Come on den." Remy made himself comfortable on the far side and held out his hand.

Cautiously, Johnny came over to the bed and climbed in, as though he expected the bedsheets to bite him. He took Remy's hand and let Remy pull him close. Remy pulled the bedsheets over top of them and snuggled close to Johnny. "An' jus' so ya know," Remy said quietly, once Johnny had made himself comfortable, "Tonigh' was a date. If ya wanted it tu be."

His heart leapt when he felt Johnny smiling against his chest. "I know."

 

 


End file.
